The Christmas Closet
by Geale
Summary: Imladris Library invites you to partake in the preparations leading up to the Winter Solstice with this remarkably silly story! Here is everything you need to join in the festivities, including Estel and his beautiful elven prince. Slash - as always! AU
1. Part One

**Greetings and blessings of the season!**

**A strange tale awaits you, as you will soon discover, but before we get started, a couple of things: **

**In Sweden, we celebrate ****advent, the time stretching from the fourth Sunday before Christmas to Christmas Eve (which is more important here, than Christmas Day). On every one of these Sundays, people light a candle and in the end, we have four candles burning. I now offer you to join in this small celebration with me, but instead of a candle, every Sunday leading up to Christmas, we'll have another part of the story. **

**This tale is a result of some messaging between me and one of the most inspiring people I've come across in a very long time. It is meant to include a library, a salad, a cookie, a chocolate fudge sundae, a closet, a wash cloth, friction, a certain human and a certain elf, and last but not least, a banana! I also seem to remember something about someone opening a door, and then two others opening another door… and some surprised looks too. **

**So, Jellybean, do enjoy this, will you! (Or I'll… make sure you get no closet-friction for Christmas!) **

**-ooo-**

**Dear reader,**

**This is a publication made by Imladris Library. It was never meant to be brought into being in the first place and, due to the extensive amount of inexplicable silliness within this document, the publisher immediately wishes to express its sincerest apologies for its existence. **

**The publisher accepts no legal responsibility for the contents within these pages, and heartily urges any unfortunate reader to leave before it is too late. **

**Should the reader, against better knowledge, delve into this text, he or she should be aware of several matters of concern: The contents of this document carry no deeper meaning and appear to be wholly without connection to reality ('AU'). What is more, it seems like the text includes references to what appears to be an all-male relationship ('slash'). The Imladris Library also suspects that certain characters could be considered 'OOC', but since no one has cared to look into this, the publisher takes no responsibility for this either.**

**For these reasons, and undoubtedly other ones not considered or mentioned, the publisher perceives no grounds for so called 'flaming'. Rest assured, dear reader, we are already all too aware of the excessive ridiculousness and absurdity within these pages. **

**Once more, we beg for your forgiveness and wish you a good day!**

**If you would like to contact the publisher, please write to: **Imladris, c.t. 'Rivendell', _hidden valley_, Imladris, c.t. 'Rivendell', West of Misty Mountains, East of Ford of Bruinen, Middle-earth. **However, the eager letter-writer should know that we open no letters post this publication. For at least fifty (50) years. **

**-ooo-**

**The Christmas Closet**

**Imladris, III 2944, Hrívë 1**

**Part One, in which 'beautiful' is used in excess and the pumpkin seeds are slimy.**

This is a tale for winter. When the mornings are dark and dreary, and night falls swiftly. This is a tale to be read and heard while the ground is sleeping and the trees are huddling close together in the woods. Yes, they huddle. You might not see it, but I promise you, it is so. Winter is when the swirling snowflakes play hide and seek all around you, sometimes pulling you along with them and wanting to hide underneath your carefully arranged scarves. Do you angrily chase them away? Ask them nicely instead, and they just might listen.

For the world is still enchanted, even though some people might tell you otherwise. One would do wise to close one's mind to such ideas, for what would life be if it were not occasionally sprinkled with a rain of glittering, magic sparks. And what is it that says they do not come from a wizard's staff? Even if you cannot see him?

Here now, is the first part of this tale. May it bring you joy and may the season bring you hope and peace.

**-ooo-**

Estel had been minding his own business. He really had! He had been completing all his chores (which had taken him a good deal of time since pumpkin seeds were quite slimy and difficult to separate from the rest of the pumpkin… slime), he had gone through all of the documents _ada _had recommended and he had even made his bed (which was almost unnecessary since it was late afternoon). With all this done, he had a hard time imagining that he was not allowed even a small peek.

Just a small one, such a quick peek that no one would ever know! He would sneak inside, hide behind a high bookshelf and cast an innocent glance around the corner. Because innocent it would be.

If he could only figure out which bookshelf to choose…

Well, not that this promised innocence was dependent on the shelf (or the books in it) but you know… he had to choose wisely. He wanted a good view after all. Especially if he was allowed only one peek.

Oh, this was most exciting!

Small snowflakes were falling outside and the afternoon was growing gloomier and duskier. Preparations were in full swing wherever he went, but Estel had a hard time enjoying the garlands of evergreen and the small twinkling lights hung among the branches of the trees. Sharp spices tickled his senses in the kitchens and pearly, snow-like mounds of rice rose high on the workbenches, but that failed to capture his attention. Not even the intriguing deliveries come from every part of Middle-earth managed to interest him the slightest.

Save for one.

Estel made his way down the corridors. Singing and laughter slipped around the corners and encircled him. _Ada _had for once agreed to let his work rest and was now in the Great Hall presiding over the decorating. Elladan and Elrohir were probably there as well, teasing Glorfindel or eating all of the pumpkin seeds Estel had so meticulously roasted earlier, or both. Strange as it was though, Estel did not care much. His brothers were welcome to all the seeds they could find, as long as they stayed away from the library.

Outside the heavy door, Estel came to a stop. The dark wood was polished, but the storm of glittering decorations had not reached it yet. It still looked pretty much the same. And it _was_ pretty much the same, except now it hid what Estel had come to look at.

A tingling sped through his body and he suddenly wished he had taken the time to pass by his room to make sure his hair was not the mess it usually was, and that his tunic was neat enough. But then, he was not supposed to be seen, he reminded himself.

He refused to acknowledge that his hand shook a little as he placed it on the doorknob and carefully slid the door open. Soundlessly it swung on its hinges and revealed a warmly lit room, filled to the brim with books. There were books on shelves, books in piles on tables, even books that had found a comfortable corner on the floor to rest upon, something that obviously was not Lord Elrond's idea. The room was shaped like an L, so it was impossible for Estel to see the rest of it – where the windows were, and the great desk, and maybe – if he was lucky – where the object of his admiration was. There would be two wood-fires burning in the library, but he only saw one at present. The other one faced the desk, and that was where Estel was headed.

Silently, and quite proud of it, he slipped across the floor and wound his way between the books, towards the furthest part of the room. His heart skipped a beat as he heard the distinctive sound of parchment being overturned, or possibly laid aside, but that made no difference to his quest.

With his breath caught in his throat, he nestled closer to the bookshelves and stayed in the shadows. Only a few feet left now…

Yes, by the sounds of it, there was definitely someone in here! And so very soon Estel would lay eyes upon him.

The last shelf loomed before him like a huge mountain. A friendly mountain, though, that would conceal him, but also let him glimpse the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

Estel scrambled over and pressed himself close to the wooden structure. This one was, too, laden with books and parchment so it hid him effectively. He forced himself to calm down. It would not do to announce his presence by panting heavily – or fainting and tumbling to the floor from lack of oxygen. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes. Then slowly he opened them and peered out from around the shelf.

There he was.

Blinking, Estel felt all resolve and determination seep out of him. He could only stare.

He took no notice of the bluish dusk sinking over the wintry valley outside, nor did he notice the crackling wood, being devoured by the flames in the fire-place. All he had eyes for was the blond elven prince, curled up in a chair behind the desk, pouring over a piece of parchment.

He was so beautiful!

Legolas Thranduilion had arrived three days ago, escorted by a host of Mirkwood's finest soldiers. Dazed, Estel had watched the brilliant prince enter the Hall and he had vaguely heard _ada_ say that he had come to celebrate the winter season with them. King Thranduil himself would arrive in two weeks, not able to stay away from his kingdom for as long as his youngest son could.

Naturally, Elrond had spoken a lot more, but Estel registered only the important things, such as the extraordinary blondness of the prince's hair, his blue eyes and the fact that he was named 'Legolas', which Estel soon decided was the most beautiful name in Arda. Yes, he found it very difficult not to use the word 'beautiful' too often when he thought of Legolas.

Long minutes passed, during which Legolas turned over yet another parchment and Estel stared. What the prince found so interesting in the scripts, Estel had no idea of, but as long as he was able to watch, he was content. He had not said a word to Legolas of course. He had imagined many discussions they might have, long-winding talks about whatever Legolas might wish to speak of, but he had not said one word to him in person. He had not even considered that a time might come when he was no longer content only watching. For now, he was so overwhelmed by this newest addition to the inhabitants of Imladris that his thoughts went no further.

It would seem now to anyone that all was well, and everything would stay the same, as the small human was at peace with his situation. But as we all know, things cannot simply stand still. Anor rises and descends, and the stars in the heavens are constantly turning. The Valar themselves might be eternal and never-changing, but that does not mean that they do not wish to see us grow, and so it was also this time.

Estel had been watching for what seemed like an eternity transformed into a single second, and he had no plans on leaving. He would not have left for the world. But when something happened that freed him from his unmoving stance, he nearly shattered into nothingness. A soft voice called out to him.

"Estel?"

Oh, gods, gods, gods! That was Legolas! Oh, gods, what was he supposed to do now?!

Estel did the only thing he could think of. He withdrew his head and with a pounding heart pressed himself flat against the bookshelf.

"Estel, you had better come forth. I know you are there."

Legolas was angry with him. Of course he was. Oh, what had he done? He had been caught staring at a prince of Mirkwood, completely without a reason. Well, personally Estel had a good reason, but he was sure Legolas would not agree with him, if he told him. Which he would _never _do! The dust from the books filled his nose, but he endured it, albeit miserably.

"Come now, there is no point in hiding. I heard you before I saw you, and that was a while ago."

Involuntarily, he admired the prince's perceptiveness. He had not even looked in Estel's direction. Sadly, this only made matters worse.

"I could drag you forth…"

Wretched, Estel pondered this. He had no option. He could try to make a run for it but then he would be too embarrassed to be in the same room as Legolas ever again, and that did not seem all too appealing. Or, he could step forward, reveal himself and live through a scolding. Swallowing hard, he crept out from behind the shelf, only to meet the blue gaze of Legolas who was still sitting calmly in his chair, his head tilted to one side.

"There you are," he said contentedly.

He did not look very angry. In fact, he did not look angry at all. But then, elves were tremendously good at hiding their emotions so he might be raging inside as far as Estel knew.

"Why do you not come and sit with me instead of hiding behind that shelf?"

This was somewhat confusing, to be perfectly honest. If Legolas meant to reprimand him, why did he not just do so?

"I…" he began, not really having a clear idea on how to continue.

Legolas was looking at him expectantly.

"…am sorry," he concluded.

"For spying on me?" There was a hint of a smile in the prince's voice.

"I did not mean to spy," Estel said quietly, "I just got… stuck, watching."

Oh, that sounded deep and wise! Feeling the beginnings of a burning blush in his cheeks, he had a strong urge to leave Imladris on the spot and never come back.

"I am that interesting?"

Legolas genuinely appeared surprised. His cerulean eyes had widened a bit and he looked at Estel with a puzzled expression on his beautiful face. (Despite the circumstances, the human still found him incredibly beautiful.)

"Yes," Estel slowly admitted, but when he saw that this did not convince the elf, he hurried to explain. "You are very beautiful. And that is why I watched you." That last was said just as the blush captured his ears as well. But he stood his ground.

"You think I am beautiful?" asked Legolas, not appearing to understand at all.

This, Estel could not have. He had already made a fool of himself, so he might just as well go all the way.

"Very much so. You are the most beautiful elf I have ever seen, and I have lived in Imladris for almost all my life." He spoke very quickly, stumbling over a few words, but desperately wanting to make his intent clear. "Ever since I saw you – and I know that is only three days ago, but still – I have been thinking of nothing but you. Even when I was supposed to concentrate on the pumpkin seeds, which were really slimy by the way, I found I could only see your face in front of my eyes. I expect it was that which made me drop so many seeds on the floor," he added thoughtfully. "Anyway, it is the truth, and if you want to scold me for watching you here, you might just as well know the truth."

It was only then that he remembered his solemn promise about not letting Legolas in on the reason for his presence in the library, but now it was too late.

The prince seemed a little taken aback, and if Estel looked closely enough, he thought he could spot some more colour in his cheeks as well.

"Oh," said Legolas.

"Yes," Estel confirmed.

Then they went silent.

After some fidgeting, carried out by both human and elf, Legolas finally spoke up.

"Will you not come and sit with me?" His voice was almost shy, and he did not look directly into Estel's eyes.

Too nervous to speak, he nodded and pulled up a chair and sat down beside the prince who became more and more beautiful as the minutes passed.

"Are you hungry?"

"Not really," Estel managed, thinking he could not possibly eat sitting so close to Legolas. Certainly he would spill, or he would forget to swallow, and then his mouth would be over-full and he would spill anyway.

"I only wondered because I had lunch in here and there is some left," said Legolas. Then he quickly added, "I was very mindful of the scrolls, and I do not suggest that you should eat my leftovers. I just thought that as it is nearing suppertime, you might be hungry."

Estel nodded (again, and painfully aware of it). It _was _nearing suppertime, and if he concentrated he could feel a surge of hunger shooting through his empty stomach.

"What is it?" he dared to ask.

The question seemed to relax Legolas a little as they now had struck a path in an otherwise stumbling conversation. "A salad," he said and produced a lidded bowl from underneath a heap of parchment.

"Salad?" Estel wrinkled his nose. "Do you like that?"

A positively beau-ti-ful grin spread on Legolas' lips.

"Yes, but I take it you do not?"

Estel carefully lifted the lid and laid it aside. He peered into the bowl and picked up a slice of carrot, carefully avoiding brushing it against the chopped squash he saw. Upon popping the carrot into his mouth, he chewed carefully, making sure he did not spill. Legolas was watching him with an amused expression.

"That is all you will eat?"

After swallowing, Estel answered by choosing another slice of carrot from the bowl and consuming it equally cautiously. "I do not like squash," he added when finished.

Legolas promptly fished out a piece of squash and bit into it, his eyes dancing with silent laughter.

Decisively, Estel reached for the bowl and found another carrot slice which he lifted out deliberately slowly and took his time devouring.

A second piece of squash found its way to Legolas' lips where it hovered for a while before it entered his mouth. Estel found that he was staring again. But this time, his eyes were glued to the lips of the elven prince. He had only one word for them:

'beautiful'.

His mind was at war with itself. A part of him could not tell at all what was happening but desperately wanted to find out, and another part thought it best to put an end to it. That part won.

Something in him – probably the conquering part of his mind – made him reach out for the bowl, pick out a piece of squash and throw it at Legolas.

Who looked startled for a second or two, until he grabbed the bowl and fished out something that looked like a leaf of green salad (however _that_ was possible in mid-winter) and hauled it towards Estel who was such a short distance away that it landed on his chest with a satisfied _'flop'_.

The part of Estel's mind that considered it wise that the human stayed away from any type of lips, cheered and rejoiced. And did not mind the least that Estel countered the attack by throwing a handful of sunflower seeds at Legolas.

The prince was laughing openly now and that coaxed the bubbling laughter built up within Estel to escape him too. Pretty soon, both of them were sprinkled with the rather sad looking remnants of Legolas' lunch.

But no victory lasts forever, as Estel's mind soon found out.

Legolas, who sat up straight in his chair by now, leaned in closer to grab whatever weapon he could find. His cheeks were flushed and his blond hair in disarray. His green tunic was splotched and the smile on his face was bright.

Estel saw him closing the distance and he blinked. He knew Legolas was only after the carrot slice that lay close to Estel's arm, but suddenly he leaned in too.

Legolas' hand never reached its intended destination.

Panicking and staring, Estel pressed his lips to the ones before him. He had no plan, no design, and he had absolutely no idea of what he was doing. Nevertheless, he did it.

Legolas' movements slowed down, his hand fell to the table surface and first his eyes widened, but then they closed. Estel dared not to breathe, but when Legolas' eyes remained closed, he allowed his own ones to mimic the motion.

This made it possible for a whole new wave of sensations to wash over him. Suddenly he _tasted. _And Legolas tasted beautifully.

They sat with their lips pressed together. Ever so slowly Estel began to breathe and felt the rapidly turning world slowing down as well, cradling them softly, urging them on.

Legolas must have felt it too, because his hand landed on Estel's upper arm and his lips increased their pressure. The smallest, smallest of whimpers escaped Estel and he would have taken it back if he had had the power to do so. Where it came from, or why, he did not know, but at least Legolas did not break the kiss.

As Estel picked up his courage again, his mouth opened up a little. It seemed like his body made the decisions for him, for he had not thought of this either. And when he first tasted the inquisitive tip of Legolas' tongue a sensational wave of heat crashed over him. His own tongue responded, and carefully sneaked forth. Estel clearly heard the tiny gasp when they touched.

Sensation after sensation awoke within him, as he tenderly brushed against Legolas. When they finally drew apart, he felt his mind caught in a swirling mist. Legolas was staring at him, much like he was undoubtedly staring back at the prince.

"Estel," breathed Legolas.

"I really like you," Estel blurted out before he had time to check his words.

A shuffling noise seemed to come from far, far away. Before they knew it, they were not alone anymore.

"Estel?" Glorfindel's voice reverberated within the library walls. "My prince Legolas?"

Estel spun around in his chair. The elf lord was observing them with raised eyebrows and a curios expression.

"Estel, what have you done to Legolas? Why are you both covered in food and _do you both realise that Lord Elrond will explode if you have smeared his precious documents!?"_

He saw Glorfindel approaching. Estel was chased out of his chair and ordered to wash up. The same was asked of Legolas but in a slightly kinder way.

"You two are lucky I am in a good mood," Glorfindel announced as he propelled them towards the door. Off you are now! But if I do not see you in clean tunics at supper, I will have you scrubbing pots and pans all night," he added with a wink.

Estel and Legolas sped down the hallway, but as soon as they had rounded a corner, they both stopped. The human happily noted that they were almost the same height and he was very pleased that he had done all that growing last summer.

He felt the urge to giggle but was not sure that would suit the occasion. Instead he racked his mind for something to say, something that would make him seem older than his years – for although Legolas was young for an elf, he was still a lot older than Estel.

"I will see you at supper?" he inquired at last.

Legolas flashed a grin that in no way made him less alluring. "I believe you shall," he answered with all the training of a prince of his stature.

"Until then… then," Estel said and bowed his head, not exactly sure how these things were supposed to be handled, but determined to do his very best.

"Until then," Legolas echoed him. "Oh, and Estel?"

"Yes?"

"I did not offer you all that remained of my lunch. Here is the rest of it."

Into Estel's outstretched hand, the golden elven prince dropped a small, round cookie.

With a bright smile playing upon his face, Estel made for his chambers, clutching the present firmly to his chest.

Surely, this was the most beautiful cookie that had ever existed!

**-ooo-**

**Here ends the first part of the tale. _Ada_ is Sindarin for 'Dad' and _Hrívë _is the Quenya name for the season of winter. ****The second part is yours to read in one week. In the meantime, keep your eyes, minds and hearts open for unexpected blessings!**


	2. Part Two

**Greetings!**

**Now, as the winds take up the wintry chill and carries it to our windows to paint flowers of frost on the glass, we crawl up amongst soft pillows and sheltering blankets. With many a warm, and truly heartfelt 'thank you for reading" I give you the second part of the tale. **

**-ooo-**

**Imladris, III 2944, Hrívë 8**

**Part Two, in which sisters are annoying and so is the holly.**

With a long-held, and finally released, exasperated sigh, Arwen tugged at the hem of Estel's unfinished tunic.

"Please, Estel, stay still!"

Unfortunately for Estel (but a quite well-earned punishment, according to the Lady), some needles remained in the fabric and they unpleasantly scraped against Estel's shoulders.

"Ow!"

"If you would stop fidgeting, we would be done by now and there would be no needles pricking your skin," his older sister stated in a most unsympathetic way.

"You have been at this for ages," Estel complained. "Is it never done?"

Rearranging his would-be robe for yet another time, Arwen tried to shield her frustration. "If you would only exercise some patience, little brother, we will soon be finished."

Estel shot her a puzzled glance. How was he supposed to be patient when every minute in his room spent inventing new robes, meant another minute away from the golden prince?

Not that he had told Arwen of this – and he would not! – but he was pretty sure Legolas cared not the slightest about what he was wearing. At least, he had not mentioned it during the short discussion they had had inside the library seven days ago. Nor had he said something of it outside the library either, when he gave Estel his cookie.

Torn between preserving the cookie forever and eating it (as in the end, that _was_ what cookies was for) Estel had placed it in a small wooden box he kept on his bed table. However, as much as the cookie had proved a problem (Estel really liked cookies) the lack of profound exchanges of words between him and Legolas unsettled him more.

The young prince of Mirkwood was as beautiful as ever, but he had not approached Estel since that wonderful afternoon. But then, Estel had not approached him either so he reasoned that they were both equally at fault.

Well, he did not precisely like to call it 'at fault', but he did not want to admit to the missing courage in his heart either.

Frowning, and greatly worried that nothing at all would happen if matters were allowed to continue this way, he lifted a hand to his forehead and rubbed it hard.

"Estel!" Arwen was glaring at him, biting her lip hard as if to prevent any harsh words from escaping her. "_Please!"_

Grumbling, Estel lowered his hand and felt the needles scratch his skin once more as she pulled at the fabric.

"I only need you to remain still for a couple of more minutes. If you twist and turn, I cannot properly see what I am doing."

Estel would very much like to ask his sister why she, who was after all called the 'Evenstar', needed the candlelight anyway and could not simply shed some starry radiance herself.

Finally, Arwen stood and collected her extra needles and her scissors and whatever else she had brought.

"There," she said. "I believe you look just as handsome as prince Legolas."

Estel's attention was immediately caught and his eyes flew up to her face. She was smiling warmly at him and gestured towards the mirror. "Have a look for yourself."

Estel trod over to the looking-glass and inspected the reflected image. He had to admit that his sister's work was not too bad; the almost-finished silver-hued robe _did _fall quite nicely off his shoulders and it _did _matches his eyes rather well. All the same, Estel was hard to convince.

"No one could be as beautiful as Legolas," he sighed reverently as a picture of the elf rose before his eyes.

Now, such is the kindness of the elves, and maybe of some in particular, that words spoken in secret are not repeated to those who would not hear them – and certainly not to those who unknowingly uttered them. Arwen felt yet another smile, a different one, replace the one she already wore. If she was not mistaken, she was witnessing the first tentative steps towards a sweet fancy that she would, many years later, tease her brother about.

Yes, for not even the elves are immune to the tempting moments of possible teasing which arises at intervals – much more often than Estel would have liked them to, to be sure.

But for now, she watched contentedly as the young human's eyes lost their focus in the mirror, and how a dreamy expression swept across his features.

**-ooo-**

The Great Hall was completely flooded with tangled garlands of evergreen, unlit candles and torches and small, glittering bulbs of glass which looked like they would like to roll off the table tops at any moment and come crashing down to the floor, just for the fun of it. Plates with nuts and dried fruits, mugs of steaming herbal tea and mulled wine stood scattered across the room, sustaining those who tried to sort everything out long into the night. Heavy tapestries covered the window-openings and did their best to prevent the dancing snow from entering and wetting the newly polished wooden floor.

Estel made his way through the swarming elves, dodging and shuffling hither and thither to evade getting knocked down by a ladder or a suddenly swung garland. He spotted his _ada _and Glorfindel by one of the fire-places, Lord Elrond looking quite amused as his friend was trying to untangle a determined stem of thorny-leafed holly from his long, blond hair. Neatly avoiding a rain of small crumbs that Estel did not particularly long to know where they came from, he finally found refuge by the fire.

"Estel," Lord Elrond smiled brightly, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I am impressed you made it all the way here without incident."

Frowning, and really wishing _ada_ would stop treating him like a small elfling, he muttered a response, sounding somewhat like this: "OfcourseIcouldmakeitherewithoutincidentsinceIamactuallynochildanymore."

After all, it was _ages _ago that he had stopped being a child!

Lord Elrond only chuckled which did not help things the least. "Not even our brave Glorfindel here managed that feat, _ion nin._"

Glorfindel chose to let out one of the milder curses he knew and tore at the strands of hair that held the holly secure. His usually cheerful demeanour had been replaced by a frustrated glower and he scowled at Imladris' Lord. "You cannot find it within your compassionate heart to help me, Elrond?"

"No, I am sorry. You have to work that out for yourself," Elrond said happily. "I am sure it is nothing to slaying a Balrog?"

"I am telling you," muttered Glorfindel, "if I had had my hair tangled at the time, there would have been no Balrog slain!"

Estel could not prevent the small smile that wanted to capture his lips. He had always loved listening to the splendid stories Glorfindel knew – and he knew loads! He had tales to tell of fiery Balrogs, of hideous trolls, of swift-flying eagles and of howling wolfs. He knew, Estel was sure, all there was to know about Middle-earth, and the lands beyond. After all, Glorfindel had seen Mandos' Halls from the inside and so he was someone to both admire and respect. Even though his present grumbling was now slightly lessening his proud – but never arrogant – air.

"So Estel," said Elrond, turning back to him, "how did the robe-making go?"

Forgetting all about Glorfindel's extensive knowledge and making a face, Estel sighed deeply. "It took her _hours, ada_!" he complained. "No matter what I said, she would not stop."

"And why were you in such a hurry to leave?" Elrond asked him, arching an eyebrow in the way he always did when he knew there was more behind a story than what he was being told.

Estel bit his lip. He had to choose his words very carefully.

"I wanted to see all the decorations," he finally said evasively as he meticulously studied the nearest wall.

Glorfindel stopped fighting the holly and shot him a puzzled look, but by a glance from Elrond, he was hindered from saying anything.

"I see," said Lord Elrond and nodded.

To Estel's relief, everyone's attention was turned away from him as the usual subtle – and sometimes not so subtle – murmur of admiration rose as Arwen herself stepped across the threshold of the Great Hall. The Evenstar had no trouble moving about in the room and risking her safety because immediately upon her entry, a winding, but open path was cleared before her. Doing her very best at keeping a straight face as she threaded her way forward, she made for the fire-place where her family members seemed to assemble one by one.

"If only I possessed your beauty…" Glorfindel muttered as she stepped up to them.

Allowing the grin to finally break through her mask of politeness, Arwen shook her head. "You are fine as you are, Glorfindel. I am not so sure that it would be appreciated by all if you had my looks."

Estel saw her casting a quick glance at _ada_, but he found he had no idea what that was for. Lord Elrond smiled with ease as Glorfindel resumed his battle with the holly.

"Little brother," Arwen smiled at Estel. "Have you yet forgiven me for tormenting you this afternoon?"

"Perhaps," said Estel, not wanting her to be too sure of his sentiments.

The truth was that he did not know himself. He had sped to the Great Hall as soon as she had let him out of his room, because he had been certain that Legolas would be here. But he was not. In fact, Estel had not seen the tiniest glimpse of the prince since breakfast and that was so many hours ago!

Beside him, _ada _and Arwen and Glorfindel began talking of something else, but Estel was lost to his thoughts – and the first shivers of misery that sparked within. Maybe Legolas regretted the kiss?

That would be horrible!

He could not! It had been a beautiful kiss!

But maybe the prince had decided that a human was of no interest to him? Maybe elven princes of Mirkwood thought that the mere idea of humans was silly and did not want to spend time with them?

Estel was not sure how many humans Legolas had met before, but they could not be that many? Estel only had to prove to him that he was indeed worth spending time with. If Legolas would only show up…

The young human hoped, but did not know for sure, that all prayers come straight from the heart was heard by the Valar. Therefore, he fervently wished that they listened to his plea and would convince Legolas to materialise in the Great Hall, or however they preferred to have things done. Estel, of course, had no way of knowing that already a small but strong thread, tentatively entwined with another one, had been introduced on the tapestry of Vairë.

For this reason, it seemed to him a wonderful miracle that only moments later a slim figure, crowned with the most beautiful golden hair stepped into the room.

Irresolute, Legolas lingered by the arched doorway, undoubtedly a little taken aback by all the commotion. His eyes widened noticeably as a mound of something yellow and very weird-looking was carried across the floor on a large silver tray. Not even Estel, who had been spending a good share of time in the kitchens lately, could say what that – or those? – was. Legolas gaze followed the tray but when they swept over Lord Elrond they abandoned their previous quest. A swirling wind of joyous anticipation awoke within Estel as the prince pulled himself up, and with a small smirk began to make his way over to where the Imladris family was standing.

Glorfindel chose that moment to finally extract the extremely disappointed twig of holly from his hair with a triumphant cry. "Hah!" he suddenly beamed, causing Lord Elrond to roll his eyes and shake his head, and Arwen to laugh.

"The Great Conqueror," Elrond teased him. "It is good to know that you are still able to defend yourself from any looming threats."

Estel really was too busy staring as Legolas wove his way towards them. He moved so gracefully, and he was more elegant than Estel suspected he himself could ever hope to be. Still, he squared his shoulders and pushed back his unruly hair, smoothing it down, quite determined to make the best impression possible. After all, this was a most important moment.

His family and Glorfindel (who was almost considered family too, but you know…) were still talking and laughing. To his annoyance, a hand landed on his shoulder and demanded his concentration. Reluctantly he did a half-turn and met Glorfindel's smiling eyes.

"What say you Estel? Your family here seems to seriously doubt my ability to defend this realm."

Estel shrugged. "I know not."

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?" He gave a dramatic sigh. "Because you are still a youngling – but only because of that – I forgive you," he grinned fondly and then…

…then he lifted his other hand and with all the strength of a very strong dwarf, he ruffled Estel's hair.

Letting out a sharp squeal of protest, Estel dodged and tried to escape the hand. Pulling away from Glorfindel, he bumped into a passing elf carrying a plate full of hazelnuts. Accompanied by a surprised cry from the elf, the nuts leaped into the air and cascaded to the floor in a brilliant rain and landed on the tiles with a drumming song.

Frozen, Estel watched in horror as the round hazelnuts picked up speed and rolled across the floor in all directions. Completely mortified, he could not decide what was worst: the roaring laughter of Glorfindel, his sister's twitching lips as she bestowed a look of pity upon him, or _ada _who surprised blinked at the scene unfolding before them.

Then the decision was made, as Legolas suddenly stood in front of him and looked like someone who never spilled anything at all.

Estel swallowed hard and felt his heart sink into his stomach. It could probably have sunk all the way into the earth, had the floor not been in the way. So engrossed in fearing the worst, Estel was too preoccupied to even send the shortest of prayers to the gentle Star Lady. Glorfindel's laughter was still mocking his ears as Legolas tilted his head to one side and the smirk he had presented turned into a full-scale grin. Then, the prince did the unexpected:

"Will you show me around," he asked.

The frantic movements around them slowed and the colours all seemed to blend with each other; if Estel had been asked to tell the greens from the reds, he was not sure he would have succeeded. The mingled sounds of cheers, laughter, annoyed grunts (some of those glass bulbs _were_ prone to roll off the tables), shouts and singing dimmed, and for his life Estel could not manage to recall any of the oh-so-important matters that had filled his days before Legolas had arrived in Imladris.

"Uhm," he nodded numbly and led the way, away from his family and through the mist of the most beautiful confusion that had ever graced the Great Hall with its shimmering mists.

If Estel had chosen that moment to look back towards the fire-place he would have seen his sister stepping up to their father, and with her eyes still on the small human and the blond elf, saying something not meant for many other ears, whilst nodding softly in their direction. He would have seen a frown born out of deep concern for the happiness and well-being not only for his youngest, but for a large part of this world, cross the face of Elrond. Estel would have seen his father's shoulders rise and fall with a small sigh, as the worries of the inevitable future once more arose in his mind. But he would also have seen how the frown was soon replaced by the tug of a smile at the Lord's lips and the slow nod of understanding and gratitude.

And for those with keener eyes yet it was not impossible to notice how Imladris' founder leaned closer to his friend of many a century, and, in return, how Glorfindel's hand settled supportively on his lower back.

As it was though, and maybe as it was supposed to be, Estel was busy seeking a path between the tables and the decorations (and some of the stray and eager hazelnuts that were still to be captured). His mind was clearing up little by little and his confidence was returning, albeit unhurriedly. Legolas was right behind him and Estel had really hard time trying to decide whether or not it was a good thing that the elf sometimes took hold of his tunic so as not to lose him in the crowd. When that happened, Estel's head filled with fog all over again and if he was not careful, he would send another set of nuts flying about the room. If there was one thing he knew as he trod forward, it was that _that _was not acceptable!

Successfully they finally reached a calmer corner of the room in which Estel stopped and turned to face Legolas. Having no clear idea on what the prince expected from him, he decided to go with the nonchalant style. He did not particularly like it but did it just the same – to be on the safest of sides possible.

"So," he said, shrugging one shoulder, "this is the Great Hall."

Legolas did not respond for three agonisingly long seconds. Then he nodded. "I figured."

But his tone was light.

Estel relaxed a little and felt like he had gained some ground to stand on. "It is really crowded," he supplied.

"Yes," agreed Legolas. "Is it always so?"

"Sometimes. Especially around the solstices." Estel thought hard, wanting to convey the air of someone who had lived through a hundred celebrations at least. "But at the Summer Solstice there are lots of other travellers here as well. We are not as many in winter."

Transfixed, he saw a new smile growing on Legolas' lips. This one was shyer and more hesitant. The blond prince shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "But I came here," he finally said.

"I am very happy about that," told him Estel sincerely, seeing the tips of Legolas' ears turning a beautiful shade of light red.

The conversation melted into the surrounding ring of voices around them and Estel shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

It was so hard! Never before had he thought that speaking to anyone could be so difficult.

When no words came to either one of them, they settled for watching the decorating business instead.

Estel had just counted to the fourth glass bulb that came crashing down onto the floor when Legolas spoke up.

"What do you think that is?" He pointed to the large silver tray that was practically drowning beneath what looked like a mountain of bow shaped, yellow squash.

"It looks like a mountain of bow shaped, yellow squash," Estel said as that was exactly what it looked like.

"No it does not," protested Legolas. "Squash are larger."

"You should know – you who like squash," teased Estel him, earning himself a wide grin from the prince.

"At least I am not afraid to try new things," said Legolas, lifting his chin a little in an attempt to look superior.

"If those taste like squash, I am not interested," stated Estel with utter distaste painted across his features.

Neither of their masks could remain in place for too long; two seconds later, they were giggling as their expressions were conquered by the growing sense of happiness around, and inside, them.

"Did you know that my _ada _will be here in one week?" Legolas asked him as they had regained both their breath and their footing.

Estel frowned for he seemed to remember words of that kind being spoken in his presence at some time.

"I must think of something to give him for the Solstice," the elf sighed. "It is nearly impossible – he says he already has everything he could ever wish for."

Estel nodded in complete understanding. It was not their fault that the elder elves had lived far longer and so had collected all the things they wanted. Yet, it was the younger ones who were punished as they subsequently never knew what to give them. Hopeless it was and Estel said as much.

"It is hopeless," he said and Legolas sighed in agreement.

From out of nowhere, Glorfindel and one of the Mirkwood Company appeared at their side.

"Estel, prince Legolas? Time for bed," the elf-lord announced. "You will see each other again tomorrow."

Quite a surprise it was that neither youngling protested too much. It had been a long day after all, and Estel was – if he were to be honest – tired. It truly was exhausting, this constant struggle to try and find the right words, the right expression, the right smile…

But it was wonderful.

As if by chance, the elder elves' attention was drawn to the next glass bulb that in this very moment chose to roll off a nearby table.

Estel knew a perfect opportunity when he saw one. Taking a deep breath to gather courage, he went for it.

Leaning closer, he placed a quick kiss on Legolas' cheek. The light in the golden prince's eyes shone like Anor herself.

Trying his luck, Estel bit his lip before offering a cheeky smile.

"I am not afraid to try new things," he said.

This was getting better and better.

**-ooo-**

**Here ends the second part of the tale. The third part is yours to read in one week. In the meantime, be kind to the gingerbread figures and don't scare off the tinsel!**

**-ooo-**

**Note: Imladris Library wishes to make it clear that we are all too well aware of the ongoing dispute regarding the Lord Glorfindel's true identity. It is clear that in this peculiar (and rather wearisome) story, the author has for no given reason decided that the Glorfindel of Gondolin and the Glorfindel of Rivendell are one and the same. This is nothing that Imladris Library chooses to debate, but simply wants to point out. We now wash our hands of this sordid business and wish you a good night!**


	3. Part Three

**Brightly the stars are shining tonight and I urge you to let them light up your heart as I am sure they are more than willing to do. I offer you now the third part of the tale. **

**-ooo-**

**Imladris III 2944, Hrívë 15**

**Part Three, in which there is too much snow and a fire does not melt the… meal. **

Estel was sure the Snow Gods were against him. He was not entirely sure they existed, but if they did they were certainly against him. Because, it was most definitely not he who had decided that all the snow the heavens owned should drown the world this very day. Drown Imladris' courtyard. Where Estel was currently standing. And had been, for nearly twenty minutes.

It was _not _funny.

The only thing that made it bearable at all was that Legolas was standing right beside him.

Stamping his feet in the snow for the hundredth time that afternoon, Estel tried to warm himself; his gloves were close to giving up and letting the wetness inside. Grumbling, he brushed away the next heaps of snow that had landed on his shoulders. He glanced over at _ada _who was speaking to Glorfindel as usual. His sister was there as well, draped in a white woollen cloak that almost made her disappear in the snow. The entire Mirkwood Company was present, as was Elladan and Elrohir who both had an incredibly hard time standing still.

A particularly large snowflake settled on Estel's nose and his only comfort was that eventually he would win as the snowflake would melt. Stamping his feet once again and rubbing his hands together, he decided that this was one of those afternoons that had begun brilliantly but soon became quite bad… and very, very wearisome.

Breaking his stance, Legolas turned to him with a puzzled look. "What _are _you doing?"

"I am trying to stay warm."

Legolas' eyes widened. "You are cold?"

Estel stopped his movements and gave the prince a severe glare as he figured that was actually his right. "There is a lot of snow here."

"And you are human…" said Legolas slowly.

Really, it was stating the obvious, but Estel was quite content that the elf had paid enough attention to him to notice.

"You must be freezing!"

Shrugging, the human put on a brave face. "No," he said, trying to sound unconcerned, "I am just a tad bit chilled."

Legolas, however, would not let him get away with this. "You should be waiting indoors."

Oh no he would not. Granted, he was upset with the snow, but no way was he going to leave now – during one of the few times when Legolas was right beside him.

"But–" The prince closed his mouth and then a smirk replaced his concern. "Or…" he said and slipped off the woollen mitten he wore on his right hand.

More watching than feeling, Estel saw how Legolas reached for _his _hand and pulled off the left glove. Then his hand was encased in the warmth of a soft grasp and finally the woollen mitten was slipped over the whole arrangement.

"You _are _cold," said Legolas with a hint of wonder to his voice, but the smirk was still there. "Lucky I am warm, then."

If it had not been so undignified, Estel would have squealed out of sheer joy at their joined hands. "Thank you," he said instead, feeling – _feeling!_ – the elf give his hand a small squeeze.

Maybe he could do a little squealing later, when Legolas was not around to hear him.

"It is much better this way, do you not agree?" said Legolas with twinkling eyes.

"It is beautiful," said Estel breathlessly.

That was when the first cheerful singing of small silver bells was heard through the snowfall and around the bend suddenly a large party of elves led by two proud horses, one brown and one white, could be sighted. At least it looked like only elves, but when the party drew nearer Estel thought that the figure atop the brown horse looked strangely familiar.

They kept up a good speed despite the weather and they were singing and laughing as they rode. It was soon obvious that it was the two leaders that were responsible for most of the din. Estel looked over at _ada _who was wearing a peculiar, wry smile as he turned to Glorfindel and said something. The elf-lord shook his head and smiled, he too. The silver bells chimed and rang out among the heavy snow-covered trees.

A booming laughter suddenly pierced the air and managed to drown out the rest of the noise. Then Estel knew.

"It is Mithrandir!" he beamed excitedly at Legolas. "I was hoping he would come here for the Solstice – and now he has!"

Oh, this would be a terrific Solstice! When Mithrandir was around, one never knew what to expect and it was great!

Legolas was nodding. "Yes, _ada _said he might travel with him to Imladris."

Estel turned back to the swiftly approaching party from Mirkwood. "That is your _ada_?" He peered through the snow at what allegedly was King Thranduil, but he could not make out very much. "What is he like?"

"You will see," smiled Legolas mysteriously.

Suddenly the situation disturbed Estel a little. He had never before met King Thranduil of whom he had not heard a lot. It was also possible that he had not listened very intently when he was told about him, but nevertheless the result was the same. Now, how was Estel going to impress the King enough so that he might see why Legolas should spend as much time with him as possible? What did Kings like? He knew what his own _ada _liked (books) but Elrond was a Lord and not a King.

Troubled and slightly nervous by now, Estel wondered if there was a great difference between a Lord and a King, and why not everyone could be called 'Lords' _or_ 'Kings' to make it much simpler. Maybe he ought to ask Glorfindel about this before he undertook any mission to make Thranduil like him. The problem being though, that Glorfindel – if he had indeed already told Estel about this – would then understand he had not listened attentively. Darn it.

During his ponderings the party had come to a halt in the courtyard and was now sliding off their horses and unloadening them. The tall, broad-shouldered King who was already on his feet shrugged the snow out of his wide, dark green cloak and pulled back the hood, revealing thick blond hair and a piercing, bright blue gaze, much like his youngest son's. His jaw line was sharp and his forehead high; his demeanour was altogether impressive and Estel swallowed. Then, the King of Mirkwood's face broke into a wide grin and he spread his arms wide.

"_Elrond, mellon nin. Suilad!" _

"Blessings of the season," Elrond replied with an amused look. "I hope your journey hither was not too hard upon you."

"The snow was no match for us," said Thranduil. "Or what say you, Mithrandir?"

The elderly wizard was shaking the snow out of his beard and off his hat – to no avail as more was constantly attacking him. "Hah! I have seen worse!"

Elrond came down the steps to greet them properly, followed by Glorfindel. Absentmindedly, Estel wondered if it would not be simpler for his _ada _and the famous elf-lord to tie their arms together with a cord. They were almost always together anyway. But of course, that may not be very comfortable. Estel himself doubted that he would enjoy being tied to anyone.

Maybe to Legolas.

After the initial greetings were over and done with (and Arwen had blushed appropriately at being called 'stunning' several times) Thranduil spun around as if in search for something, sending new whirls of snow playing in the air.

"What have you then Elrond, done with my son– Ah! Legolas!"

Grinning, Legolas waved at his father with his free hand and Thranduil returned his smile. They met halfway, the King taking a few steps towards them with his long legs, and Legolas running fast atop the snow. Estel distantly saw the prince being enveloped in a huge embrace that nearly swept him off the ground, but all he really could think about himself was how cold his hand was without Legolas keeping it warm for him.

The mitten lay in the snow beside him, and slowly he bent down to pick it up. It was all snowy and a little wet. He had not noticed that before. He felt very lonely all of a sudden, standing in a white swirling sea as everyone was talking amongst themselves. The horses were being led away one by one, and the Mirkwood party was ushered inside to where the fires were.

King Thranduil had a hand on his son's shoulder and was speaking with Glorfindel. Elrond and Mithrandir were laughing and Arwen was admired by everyone who had not met her before. Elladan and Elrohir were nowhere to be seen. Sighing, Estel tightened his grip on the mitten and kicked at the stupid snow. On top of it all, he was hungry.

Cloaked figures were passing him by without taking any notice of him. It was just as well. They could have their fun if they wished. He paid no attention to them.

Not until a hand landed on his shoulder and urged him to turn around. He did it extraordinarily reluctantly just to make a point out of his misery. When he saw who it was, he immediately regretted it.

"Estel?" Legolas' eyes were large and worried and beautiful. "Is something the matter?"

"No," he said.

The prince was not convinced.

"Are you upset because I left you on the stairs? I did not mean to do it so abruptly, but I have not seen _ada _in two weeks…" He trailed off and watched Estel uncertainly.

Pouting just a little, Estel cradled his bare hand in his gloved one. "I know…"

"I am sorry," said Legolas urgently, "but it is not very often I am away from home like this… on my own, you know."

No, Estel did not really know as he had not left Imladris and Lord Elrond – ever. Since he came here for the first time that was, but that did not count because he was not leaving then and had not known Elrond _before _and so… It was actually rather confusing. Truly thinking about it, he supposed Legolas had had every right to run to greet his father.

"I know," he repeated but was not able to erase all of the gloom from his voice. "I should be sorry. I had no right to be sulky." He figured that he could at least own up to it. "Oh, here is your mitten," he added, holding out the woollen item.

"And here is your glove," said Legolas, brightening. "I never gave it back."

Looking up from the exchange, Estel found they were alone. "Everyone has gone inside. We should too."

Legolas looked as if he was about to agree but then changed his mind. "If you are not very cold," he said, "maybe we could stay out here for a little longer?"

He took Estel by the hand and led him behind a nearby shrubbery that was almost hidden by masses of snow. Frowning, the human was about to ask him what they were doing here, but he was given no chance. For as soon as Legolas faced him, his mouth was covered by a pair – a warm pair – of lips.

Startled, but deliriously happy, Estel kissed the prince back. He moved his lips in whichever way he fancied, hoping that he did at least something right. He closed his eyes when he remembered that to have helped the last time. Legolas' hands were resting on his shoulders.

Into Estel's mind flooded that mist he had come to understand had something to do with being close to the golden elf. It almost toppled him over, but Legolas' hands grounded him effectively in reality – and what a beautiful reality it was! Sliding his lips over Legolas' mouth, he heard a small sigh coming from the prince. From what he could tell, it did not seem to be a sigh of boredom.

Suddenly recalling a brilliant moment from the kiss in the library, Estel – with a tiny tingle in his breast – opened up his mouth a little. Legolas must have felt a similar tingle because he responded by parting his lips to let Estel's tongue dart forth and explore a small space of the warmth. The tip of Legolas' tongue met his, and the spark in Estel's breast grew almost into a flame before he had to break the kiss to breathe.

Legolas' eyes were glazed and glittering at the same time. His pale cheeks matched the snow very well, but his lips were as red as holly berries. He smiled when a second snowflake landed on Estel's nose, and before the human knew what was happening, Legolas leaned forward and kissed the snowflake away.

Stunned, Estel only knew that this was the most wonderful afternoon of his life.

"Do you know," said Legolas in a shy voice. "I think we should change again."

He slipped one of Estel's gloves off his hand and removed one of his own mittens. Then, he handed it over to Estel and slid his hand into the glove he had just claimed. Estel was left with one glove that was his own and one mitten that only a second before had belonged to Legolas. He slipped on the glove and regarded his mismatching garments.

"It is beautiful," he said reverently.

**-ooo-**

The same booming laughter met Estel as he, a half-hour later, stepped into the dining hall. Mithrandir was sitting by the fire-place, apparently telling a tale of some sorts, and around him were assembled all who would listen. A great crowd, in other words.

Now dressed in a dry and warm set of clothes, Estel trod forwards and stepped up to Glorfindel who was listening to the wizard with only half an ear. His attention was divided between Mithrandir and Elrond, currently in conversation with Thranduil several feet away.

"Glorfindel?"

A smile crossed the elf-lord's face. "What can I do for you Estel?"

Wavering, Estel was again not sure if he wanted to ask his tutor about the question regarding elven ruler's titles. Shrugging, he sank down on the armrest of Glorfindel's chair.

"I just wondered about Thranduil, 'tis all…"

It was not the most eloquent way in which to word a question. In fact, it was rather vague.

"And what is it you wish to know?"

"Only, I have never met him before…"

Giving a small laugh, Glorfindel winked at him. "He can be quite overwhelming at first meeting, would you not say?" When Estel nodded, he continued, but now with a more serious tone in his voice. "In the company of family and friends, the King of Mirkwood is easy to speak with and laughs much. When faced with political issues and enemies… Let us say he is an interesting acquaintance."

"He and _ada _are good friends?"

Glorfindel sighed. "Yes, and no. Well, yes. Their opinions differ at times and they do not always agree on the proper way to govern the lands. Mirkwood – once Greenwood the Great – is a darkened realm these days, but it is not Thranduil's fault. Elrond knows, though, that it is wiser to be his friend than his foe."

Estel frowned at this piece of information. "But they seemed happy to see each other today?"

The ancient elf-lord placed a hand on his arm and smiled. "They were – and are – happy to see one another. Disagreeing does not mean fighting, Estel. They know each other well by now, and Elrond was a good and supportive friend when Thranduil's wife, Legolas' _naneth_, passed away some years ago."

"She is dead?" Estel asked, wide-eyed. "That is awful!"

"Such are the circles of this world. But without death there would be no life." Glorfindel nodded towards the cloth-covered window-openings. "If the winter did not make sure that nature might repose and rest, spring would be bleak and weary indeed."

Chewing on his lower lip, the small human tried to grasp it all. One death became such a great concept when put in perspective. Finally nodding, he rose from the armrest, just in time to notice that Mithrandir was done with his tale.

Now it was that the eyes and the hearts of Eru, the great gods and goddesses, desired for things to take a new turn.

Just as Mithrandir was straightening in his very comfortable chair, his eyes landed on the human ward that Lord Elrond of Imladris had taken into his house, and to his heart. Estel was constantly present in the wizard's thoughts as he knew more about the boy than the boy did himself. What he saw though, when his gaze settled upon him, was another youngling coming up to greet him.

The youngest leaf among Thranduil's children, the fair and clever Legolas, was shuffling his feet beside Estel, and if the wizard's old eyes did not deceive him, there was a faint blush glowing in his cheeks. Narrowing those eyes of his, Mithrandir thought he saw something not even he had predicted.

'Manwë, this you did not tell me,' he mused.

Intently he watched as Estel grinned and shrugged one shoulder with a light about him that was completely new.

_Ai, Elbereth… _

And to himself, and to those who were even wiser than he, he smiled.

**-ooo-**

Supper was a most tiresome affair. Estel was seated with his family and his family was seated with the most prominent members of the Mirkwood party, but to his dismay he and Legolas were separated by far too many chairs. Picking at his food, he listened to Thranduil complaining about the dwarves and his father speaking of the orchards. Who cared about orchards anyway? It was winter!

Impatiently he fidgeted in his seat and more than once dropped his napkin to the floor. Arwen elegantly fished it up for him twice before she pointedly refused to do it again as he would not learn his lesson and sit still. All of this she told him with but one glance. It was actually quite remarkable, but Estel had been far more amused had it been someone else she had glared at.

In the end he was saved by Mithrandir who had scarcely spoken two words to him since his arrival.

"Estel?" The really, really old wizard leaned forwards and caught his attention. He was smiling funnily behind the bushy white beard. "Why do you not run off to the library and see if there is something in there that you might like? And why do you not take Legolas with you?"

Estel glanced over at _ada_ uncertainly.

"Oh," said Mithrandir. "I am sure your father could spare you." Raising his voice a little, he asked, "Elrond?"

The Lord of Imladris was listening keenly to what Thranduil was saying about something else that did not interest Estel, and he only nodded vaguely without taking his eyes from the King. "Hmm?"

"See?" beamed Mithrandir. "He approves."

Judging that it probably was alright – after all he had been good and sat through a Meal of Eternity – Estel rose from his chair and surprised saw Legolas do the same. And then swiftly they slipped out of the dining hall.

Once in the hallway, Estel shot a puzzled glance at Legolas who grinned.

"I overheard you," he explained.

"But were speaking very low."

Shrugging, Legolas looked unconcerned. "I have good hearing."

They trod down the hallway in companionable silence and only shoved each other a bit upon entering the dimly lit library.

"I like it so much in here," said Legolas after they had made it through the doorway without too much trouble. "Your _ada _must truly like books."

But Estel found it hard to look at anything else but the glass bowl that stood upon the floor in front of the low-burning fire.

"_What _is that?"

In utter bewilderment he fell to his knees beside the bowl. Legolas dropped down opposite of him.

The bowl was filled with some of the strangest contents Estel had ever seen. In the bottom there was something white and glistening. It looked like snowballs made of milk or cream… and sort of covered in water. Running across the white stuff there were several strands of a honey like substance, but much darker. Crossing _those, _were others of an even darker colour… nearly black in the poor lightening. In the very base of the bowl, some of the milky white stuff had collected in a pool, and it was leisurely mixing with the brownish honey-thing.

But this was not all. There was something resembling a long, thin cookie stuck into the whole creation, and a bright red cherry lay on the very top of the small mound. There were bits and pieces of something dark too, randomly sprinkled atop the whole thing. These… flakes had the same colour as the darker… sauce?

Legolas' eyes narrowed as he cast a suspicious look at the construction.

"So, what do you presume this is?" he finally asked.

Estel shook his head, as befuddled as before. "Never seen one like it…" He glanced up at the prince. "Do you think it is dangerous?"

"Mithrandir told us to come here. I do not suppose he would endanger us by presenting us to… this."

Legolas looked not as sure as might have liked, but Estel had already decided for himself that if he was about to die, he was happy to know that at least he had spent his final moments with the golden prince.

"Wait!" said Legolas suddenly, reaching for something that lay almost hidden by a pile of books. "Here are two…" Holding up his hand, he looked even more confused. "…spoons."

Estel's jaw nearly fell open. "You _eat_ it?"

"Apparently so," said the elf.

Accepting one of the spoons, Estel once more eyed the bowl and its contents. Some more of the white stuff had turned into sauce too and joined the pool. If the mere thought had not seemed so totally absurd, he would have said that it, whatever it was, was _melting_.

Swallowing, he lowered his spoon as Legolas did the same, an expression of deep concentration in his features. Scooping up a mouthful, he noticed that the white-brownish mess was soft. He exchanged one last, strengthening glance with Legolas and then he warily brought the spoon to his mouth and ate.

It was cold. And it _did_ melt – in his mouth – as if he were eating snow! But there was undoubtedly more substance to this than there was to snow. And it was sweet. And Estel found it absolutely delicious.

By the look on Legolas face, he was sharing Estel's opinion and soon they were both grinning wildly.

"This is so much better than carrots!" Legolas stated.

"And squash!" countered Estel immediately. "But then," he added thoughtfully, "there is a lot that is better than squash."

Legolas made a face – a brilliant one – and then tried a second bite.

Estel was not sure it could actually be called a 'bite', but one could not very well say 'sip' or 'drink' either. It sure was confusing.

As it turned out, it did not matter much; it was soon established that even if this was going to kill them, they had no intention of leaving for Mandos before all of it was eaten.

Legolas broke a piece of the thin cookie and scooped up some of the dark brown sauce with it. "Try this," he said and held it up for Estel to see.

Now, this was a tricky situation. Since the end of the cookie that was directed at Estel was soaked in sauce, there was no way for the human to touch it with his fingers and not getting all sticky. And the dry part was held by Legolas. He hesitated, thinking he might balance it on his spoon when Legolas winked at him.

"Open your mouth."

Estel did as he bade. He had no other option really, and in any case – who was he to refuse?

Feeling the small tingle from before awaken in his breast, he held his breath as Legolas leaned closer, over the bowl, and carefully popped the cookie into his mouth. He closed his lips reflexively (he was certainly not chewing with his mouth open!) but was rewarded with another gift as Legolas placed a quick kiss upon them.

With growing warmth in his cheeks Estel tried to chew gracefully, but it did not seem to matter to Legolas whose gaze had fallen to the floor and who was smiling the most endearing smile ever.

**-ooo-**

"Do you want the cherry?"

Estel gave the last piece of this strange meal a small nudge with his spoon.

"No, you take it," said Legolas.

"I think you should have it," prompted Estel. "Remember how you gave me your cookie two weeks ago?"

The prince bit his lip. "Are you sure?"

Nodding decisively, Estel fished up the cherry for Legolas to eat. The elf picked it up between his thumb and his forefinger and bit into it. He removed the pip and let it fall into the bowl with a short, sharp _clank_ and then ate the rest of the berry.

Estel was watching him dazedly and altogether floating in a wonderful mist of happiness. Therefore he did not notice the door opening and two figures stopping short at the sight of them, until… well, until the door was open and _ada _and Glorfindel were staring.

"Estel?" Elrond asked.

"Prince Legolas?" said Glorfindel. "What in the name of Ilúvatar himself are you doing?"

"Are you _eating in the library_?" Elrond demanded, looking rather angry. Then his demeanour changed again as he spotted the bowl in which the last of a sorry sea of light brown, thick liquid showed. "What is that?!"

Legolas turned around to face them. "Not carrots," he smiled.

"And it is not squash!" Estel said triumphantly.

**-ooo-**

**Here ends the third part of the tale. In one week you shall have the fourth, and the last part. **

**As for the elvish, it is all Sindarin and translations are as follows: **

_ada _– dad/daddy

_mellon nin_ – my friend

_suilad!_ – greetings!

_naneth_ – mother

**Until next week, remember to cherish yourselves and your loved ones. And the cookies. **


	4. Part Four

**We have come now to the last part of this tale. Together we await the turning of the year and the new light that shall shine down upon us. Be sure to let it into your life and your heart. **

**Imladris III 2944, Hrívë 20-21**

**Part Four, in which there is scheming and friction. Hopefully enough.**

What truly was going on in the hearts and minds of all dwellers in Imladris, both permanent and temporary, was a matter known only to the Valar themselves. And I daresay, rather amused they were.

The Lord himself, who had seen both great joy and great sorrow throughout his many years, was gladdened by the loving bond that was slowly – but not as discreetly as the younglings might have wished – developing between his human ward and the youngest of Mirkwood's princes. To him it seemed that the power of the inevitable future, whatever grief and hardship it might bring, was now somehow mingled with renewed hope and joy. For this, he was utterly and profoundly grateful.

Where he was standing now, in the storage room that lay next to Estel's bedroom, he ran a hand over the smooth surface of a wooden wall panel, meaning to sigh and say something philosophical about said future. Instead, he abruptly pulled away his hand and regarded it with a look that carried what could only be described as displeasure.

"I see my youngest has been neglecting his duties," he ascertained.

Glorfindel looked up from where he was sitting atop one of the chests that had been stored away as Estel grew and so consequently needed more space for his clothes.

"Everyone knows that dusting is a quite tedious business, Elrond."

The Lord of Imladris sent his friend a reproachful glance. "Of course it is," he said. "But I have no desire to see Estel grow up a spoiled man."

"Very wise of you," nodded Glorfindel and went back to examining the yellow item he was holding. Another one, identical to the first, was lying in his lap. "Do you really eat these? Are you sure? Or are you secretly trying to kill me?"

"If I had wanted to kill you, I would have done so a long time ago." Elrond walked over to one of the closets that had for some reason remained hidden from view for many years. "This is a beautiful piece of craftsmanship… I ought to have it cleaned and brought to my chambers."

"You 'ought to have it cleaned'? Cannot you do it yourself?" teased the blond elf-lord. "Hmm…" he continued, "I suppose you are right. So you peel off the skin? It is all terribly suspicious." He set to work, tearing the skin away from the fruit. "I have never seen anything like it before, and I am ancient!"

Elrond scooped up some of the dust that was resting on top of the closet. "I pride myself in not being spoiled. But I just might force Estel to do it… since he really should have done it already." He cast a glance over his shoulder. "Yes, peel it off. The fruit is rather sweet actually. It is rarely seen in these parts but I was fortunate to be sent a load from the western lands."

Glorfindel looked like he highly doubted his words, but continued his assault on the fruit. When he had managed clear away all of the thick, bright yellow peel, he held his reward up before him tentatively.

Elrond did not fight the urge to roll his eyes. "It will not attack you."

"One never knows," said Glorfindel, eyeing the fruit distrustfully. "One never knows." Carefully he bit into it and chewed just as warily.

"So? You verdict?" said Elrond as he watched the chewing and the swallowing.

To even his own surprise, Glorfindel brightened visibly and smiled cheerfully. "I like it. I do like it!" He took a second bite and nodded vigorously. "Not bad at all," he said when he had swallowed this one too. "Hah! Wait until I present one of these to Thranduil – he will not know how to react!"

"Because you have known about the existence of these fruits for so long..?"

"King Thranduil does not know that," protested Glorfindel as he lovingly regarded the fruit. "It shall be great fun, indeed."

Elrond turned to face him fully. "How old did you say you were?"

Glorfindel winked at him from atop the chest. "One is never too old to have some fun."

Smiling a wry smile, the Lord shook his head. "We should–"

He got no further as a cry erupted in the hallway and the sound of two pairs of feet running wildly interrupted him.

"My sons…" This time he actually did sigh. "Come on Glorfindel, let us find out what they are up to before they have time to involve Mithrandir and the whole of Imladris is set aflame."

"Coming, coming…" grunted Glorfindel as he reluctantly slipped down from the chest, oblivious to the other yellow, unpeeled fruit that fell to the floor with a faint _thump._

**-ooo-**

Estel was wandering about, mindless of anything else but the bliss in his heart and the sparkling mist that was now a constant resident in his head. He was so happy! He was so happy it was hard not to smile all the time. He probably smiled in his sleep too, but naturally he could not know that. But he liked the idea.

He was even happy when Legolas was spending time with Thranduil, like he was now. It somehow made Estel even happier to see him when they met up afterwards. Together – Estel and Legolas that was, not Legolas and his _ada_ – they had built a high tower of snow outside in the courtyard. Together, they had helped with the decorating, and together they had roasted loads and loads of pumpkin seeds in the kitchens. As Legolas had never done that before, Estel had showed him how to, and then they had gotten all slimy and then Legolas had thrown some slime at him… and they had been chased out of the kitchens… and… it was beautiful!

The day was drawing to a close. Anor had, during the past days, had a hard time shining through the heavy clouds and now she was preparing to leave the skies for Ithil to take over. It was the day before the Solstice and Estel would have preferred to spend it thinking about the golden prince and maybe admiring the cookie he still kept by his bed. As it was though, things took a little unexpected turn…

"Little brother!"

"Wait up!"

Turning around, Estel saw his brothers hurrying down the corridor towards him. Alike in both appearance and body language, the twin sons of Elrond slowed their pace and smiled simultaneously.

"What are you doing here all alone, Estel?" inquired Elrohir with a distinctive twinkle in his grey eyes.

"We expected to find you with that blond prince of yours," said Elladan, causing Estel to blush furiously and, very much, involuntarily.

"He is not 'my prince'," he tried, hearing himself how he stuttered.

"Oh no?"

"We are quite sure he is," said Elrohir. "As we are also quite sure that _you_, little brother, is very much in love."

"I–" Estel bit his lip, not wanting to lie and yet greatly confused. Yes, he wanted to spend all of his waking hours in Legolas' company, and yes, he felt that tingle in his breast when the elf came closer and…

… they _had_ sort of kissed.

"I really like him," he said with a shrug, hoping he came across as indifferent.

This seemed to satisfy his brothers for Elladan placed a hand on his shoulder and gave an affectionate pat. "Of course you do," he said as Elrohir nodded understandingly. "Everybody likes Legolas."

They resumed their stroll down the hallway and walked in silence until Elrohir frowned and stopped. "Brother," he said, "were we not supposed to deliver a message to Estel?"

"Ah!" exclaimed Elladan in a most dramatic way. "We were indeed!" He turned to Estel and looked down upon him. "_Ada_ wishes you to clean that old closet of his. You know, the one in the storage room next to yours. Only the gods know why he wants it now, but maybe he desires to give it to Glorfindel?" He shot his twin brother a playful glance.

Estel frowned. "Why would Glorfindel want a _closet_?"

"That, little brother, is unknown to us," said Elrohir. "Anyhow, you have been chosen to clean all specks of dust from it, and we suggest you do it as soon as possible since the Solstice celebration is just around the corner."

"But… I have better things to do!" This did not seem fair at all to Estel. If _ada_ wanted to give Glorfindel a dusty closet for the Solstice, why could he not clean it himself? Grumbling, the small human kicked at the floor. "Why should I have to do it?" he complained.

Sinking down to his knees, Elladan surveyed him. "The quicker you do it, the quicker it will be done," he said. "It cannot be that bad. Is it not your duty to regularly wipe off the furniture in that room?"

Estel felt another wave of heat wash over him, but of a different kind this time. He squirmed only a little in front of his brother. So he had been neglecting his duties for a couple of weeks… More precisely since Legolas had arrived in Imladris, but that was understandable! At least to him.

"Off you go, little brother," said Elladan. "Maybe work proves to be more rewarding than you believe at present?"

**-ooo-**

Still grumbling, Estel balanced a large bowl of lukewarm water in his hands. He had hung a soft wash cloth on his arm. The storage room lay in semi-darkness even after he had lit a handful of candles and now, as he placed the bowl on the floor, he heaved a long sigh. The closet loomed before him, looking like an enormous mountain of carved wood. It would take him most of the night cleaning it if he did not ignore the intricate designs that seemed to attract dust like honey attracted flies.

He worked for some time, wiping and washing, cleaning and swabbing. He wondered what Legolas was doing and if he missed him… His father had most certainly let him go by now and maybe he was looking for Estel? Thinking about Thranduil sent a sinking feeling through his stomach. Estel had very neatly avoided the King of Mirkwood since they were properly introduced by _ada_ but he was constantly worried that Thranduil might not approve of him for some reason. Which reason, he did not know, but surely there could be one?

Opening the closet door, he peered inside. In the poor lighting he spotted two rather large cobwebs and undoubtedly there were more. Estel was not afraid of spiders but that did not mean he wanted to spend an evening with them.

He unwillingly stepped inside and continued his work. He was so absorbed in his task, even though he did not like it, that he completely missed the low voices that drew nearer. And then, before he knew what was happening, a soft body crashed unceremoniously against his own, accompanied by a squeal of protest.

"What–"

"No!"

"You–"

"Stop it!"

Two identical laughs rang out and then the door to the closet closed and the lock clicked ominously.

"Ouch!"

"Estel?"

"Why did you poke me?"

"I did not mean to, it is my toothbrush."

Estel blinked in the darkness but could not at all make out the form of Legolas that lay sprawled at his feet. "Legolas?" he asked just to make sure.

"Yes?"

Not wanting to come off as uninviting or such, he worded his amazement carefully. "What, ehm, are you doing in here?"

"'Twas your brothers' fault," grumbled the elf as he tried to sit up properly, judging by the copious amount of shuffling carried out in the darkness. "I was brushing my teeth… I still am, actually," continued Legolas with a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Brushing your teeth?" echoed Estel, still slightly puzzled by the recent events.

"Yes, and I am sorry I poked you."

"No problem… Ouch!"

"Oh!"

Estel heard the sound of something landing on the bottom of the closet as he fiercely rubbed his shank. Then, their positions were somewhat revised as Legolas grabbed hold of his tunic but only managed to pull Estel down as well. He landed more or less in Legolas' lap, with his arms trapped beneath his chest.

"The walls are slippery," stated the elf.

"I have been cleaning them," grunted Estel into Legolas' tunic.

"I see," he said before his voice took on a worried tone. "Are you hurt?"

"Nah," said Estel bravely, "only a bit sore."

He untangled his arms and tried to push himself off Legolas. It did not prove to be very easy as he saw nothing of what he was doing, and nor did it become easier when Legolas caught his shoulders and stilled his movements.

"Wait," he whispered.

Abruptly the atmosphere changed and into the darkness crept the full understanding of the situation. Estel felt his breathing become shallow as he realised that he was entirely alone with the golden prince in the closet. The prince that maybe… maybe… he was, oh gods, that maybe he was… in love with.

Despite the darkness he blushed.

Oh, what was he to do?!

Feeling inexplicably uncomfortable, Estel twisted in Legolas' grip. Now he would destroy everything and Legolas would hate him and he would finally receive that scolding.

"What is it?" asked the prince anxiously as he let his hands fall to give Estel the space he suddenly needed.

"I…" began the human but found he had managed not to continue. "I am sorry."

"About what?"

"Well… you know…"

"No..?"

Right now, the darkness was not a bad thing. Nevertheless it would have been nice to see Legolas' expression in this so very important moment.

"Well," Estel took the deepest breath he had ever taken. "I am really sorry and I do not mean to offend you, but you already know that I like you very much, and these past weeks have been so brilliant." He took another breath, feeling his cheeks burning up. "They have been the best weeks of my life, and I know I am only thirteen, but even so. And now I think I am in love with you."

He refused to exhale.

"You are in love with me?"

Legolas' voice was like a whisper and he did not sound like he believed the words he had just been told.

Estel nodded even though he knew Legolas could not see it. "I think so," he added quietly.

The elf was silent for a while and Estel forced himself to breathe. It would not do to faint, not now.

"Why would I be offended?" Legolas finally asked.

"I do not know," said Estel. And it was true – if he were to consider it. "Because you are a prince?"

"That is silly. I am not offended. Estel…"

A tentative finger trailed down his cheek, a little uncertainly, but at least it did not poke him in the eye.

"Yes?" he breathed.

"I think I love you too."

With eyes widening, Estel stared into the darkness while his heart jumped for joy. "Really?"

"Really."

His courage returned in an instant and without hesitating he threw himself at Legolas and pressed his lips against the elf's. At least he hoped that he caught his lips and he seemed do have done alright because Legolas pulled him close and kissed him back.

Things had just turned interesting, which meant that Legolas' lips had gotten a bit moist, when the elf gave a small shriek and a shove. He caught hold of Estel and together they bumped against the door which unexpectedly gave way and so they both tumbled out upon the floor.

"What was that?!"

Confused, and rather disappointed for the kiss was really good, Estel glanced towards the closet. Then he smiled.

"Only my wash cloth," he said. "Nothing dangerous."

"Oh," said Legolas a bit sheepishly. "It was all damp and cold." He pointed at the closet door. "Looks like the lock is old and rusty."

Estel was getting to his feet and was trying to brush all the dust from his clothes. "_Ada_ shall have to change the lock then, before he gives the closet to Glorfindel."

"Why would Glorfindel want a closet?" said Legolas incredulously.

Shrugging, Estel looked about the room. "No idea."

Then his eyes landed on something else, lying innocently on the floor. "Look! It is one of those yellow, squash-things!"

Legolas scrambled over to where he was standing and in the dim candlelight he bent down and picked up the fruit. "We seem to discover new things all the time, you and I," he said. "Do you think this is Mithrandir's doing as well?"

Estel eyed the strange-looking item. "Do you think one eats this one too?"

Legolas smirked brilliantly. "Only one way to find out."

And so it was that when morning came, and Elrond and Thranduil who had been worried ever since breakfast when neither Estel nor Legolas had showed up, opened the door to the storage room. What they found in there was not only a half-cleaned closet and a bowl of dirty, cold water, but also their sons, contentedly sleeping with their arms wrapped securely around each other. What remained out of sight, though, was a discarded banana peel resting on the floor in the shadows.

**-ooo-**

The Great Hall seemed to be gleaming all by itself as if the walls were on fire in the most discreet of ways. (Mithrandir was looking very pleased.) Food and drink upon various plates and trays, and in many bowls and glasses, covered an entire table and as one of the heavy curtains had been pulled away from the window-opening it normally shielded, the blazing fires roared freely in their places.

The night was growing and singing and laughter filled the room as Estel made his way forward. He was a bit shaky since he had bumped into Arwen in the hallway and disturbed her and some Mirkwood-elf in a kissing moment. He shuddered, not at all wanting to think about his sister _kissing _someone! Lucky for him, she had shared his sentiments and with blushing cheeks she had rather urgently shooed him away. It was all a bit scary, to be honest.

"You are looking very handsome, little brother!"

Elladan and Elrohir appeared out of nowhere and joined him.

"Is that the robe Arwen made for you?"

"Yes," Estel nodded, glancing down at the silvery grey material. "It took her ages, but now it is finished."

"Very handsome indeed," said Elrohir. "And I am sure Legolas will agree."

"Did you have a nice time in the closet?" Elladan smirked.

Somehow knowing that he had a choice here, Estel lifted his chin a little. "Perhaps," he said. "But you ought to know that was a most impolite way of handling the prince."

"Ah, a thousand pardons."

"We are very sorry," said Elrohir, putting on a mask of sincere regret Estel did not know how to interpret. "We only did what had to be done."

"Did it… lead, shall we say, to anything constructive?" asked Elladan innocently.

"Perhaps," repeated Estel, "if professing our love for each other is anything to go by."

With that, he sauntered off, leaving his elder brothers with their brows knitted. He was not sure if what he had said strengthened their case, but the words felt comfortable on his tongue, and that was all that really mattered.

_Ada _and Glorfindel were standing by the open window looking very dressed-up and neat. They were undoubtedly discussing something important for the space between them was almost none. Estel chose another direction and almost choked on his breath when he saw Legolas leaning against the wall and looking positively astoundingly _beautiful_.

Dressed in a tunic of shimmering green and dark, dark brown leggings, Legolas nonchalantly bit into an apple that helped the vision along by wetting the prince's lips in a delightful way. The firelight caught his golden hair and toyed with it idly.

Estel felt the floor dissolve beneath his feet and he was once more floating in that haze. Moving as gracefully as possible, he came up to Legolas who greeted him with a glorious smile.

"Apple?" he asked.

"Maybe later," said Estel.

As the night gradually reached its peak, all of the assembled elves drew nearer to the window that only Lord Elrond and Glorfindel had previously occupied. Estel tugged at Legolas' arm and together they wound their way towards it too, just as the darkest moment of the night covered Imladris, and the rest of Middle-earth.

They did not stop until they stood only inches away from the Lord himself and had nothing before them to hide the darkness outside. Legolas slipped his hand into Estel's. The human smiled shyly and was about to say something when a heavy hand landed upon his shoulder and spun him around.

Immediately loosing contact with Legolas, Estel stared straight into the stern and penetrating gaze of King Thranduil of Mirkwood.

"So," the King said, his eyes narrowing, "you are what keeps my son so distracted these days."

It was not a question but even if it had been, Estel would not have been able to answer it.

"I noticed not at first, but then, as the days followed one by one, it dawned on me that Legolas had found something here in Imladris that inspired him more than my company could ever do." Thranduil's mouth made an odd grimace. "You are not what I had expected."

Licking his lips, Estel really wanted to explain but how was he supposed to do that? How could he describe the tingle within? Or the happy song that was in his heart? Or the wonderful sensation of harmony when he kissed Legolas? Thranduil most probably did not want to hear about that.

Thranduil kept on staring. "I confess I am surprised."

"I am sorry," whispered Estel with despair hovering on the edge of his words.

"You are sorry?" The King's eyes narrowed even more. "For what are you sorry?"

"For… taking so much of you son's interest away from you?" he tried.

Thranduil stood frozen in his posture before him for a handful of terribly long seconds, almost a whole minute. Then, he laughed.

Estel blinked at him.

Suddenly patting his shoulder rather forcefully (as he was quite strong), the King of Mirkwood kept on laughing. "That day was bound to come at some point," he said when he had regained his breath. "I was simply not prepared for it just yet."

"Oh," said Estel.

"My son is happy when he is around you, I can see that. I allow you to spend time with him."

"Thank you," breathed the human as that was, funnily enough, all that he had desired in the beginning.

"Just make sure he does not sleep on the floor too often," the King added with a wink.

"I promise."

"Good," said Thranduil, fixing his gaze on Legolas instead. "_Ion nin… _You are happy here, are you not?"

"Yes, _ada_."

To Estel's delight, Legolas recaptured his hand and held it firmly.

"I love Estel."

The fog threatened to overwhelm him, but Estel fought it knowing that he would not impress Thranduil if he passed out now. Life sure was full of these important moments!

"Very well, very well…" said the King thoughtfully – and not without a hint of sadness to him, but recognisable only to elder eyes. "Then I am happy too," he concluded and Estel felt a long breath he apparently had been holding finally escape him. This caused Thranduil to laugh heartily once more. "Nervous were you?" he boomed, causing every eye that was not already trained upon them to settle there. "Ah, it is good to know I have not lost my capacity to insert fear in people!"

Legolas tugged at Estel's hand and the human drew his eyes away from the King. The elf was smiling a smile of relief. "You alright?"

"I think so," said Estel a bit faintly.

"Thranduil!" A second booming rang out nearby. "If you have solved you family issues then maybe you would like to try some of that cider?"

A very competitive Mithrandir was regarding the King with an eyebrow raised. "Or perhaps you dare not challenge me?"

"Hah!" exclaimed Thranduil. "I shall show you how it is done!" He cast a final glance upon Estel and Legolas. "You have fun, younglings! Do not sleep on the floor Legolas, and," he bent down and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "stay off that yellow, squash like fruit over there. Glorfindel said they might be poisonous. "

Estel and Legolas watched him take Mithrandir by the arm and walk off with him towards the table.

"I should tell him they are not dangerous," Legolas said. "But right now I have better things to do."

He clasped Estel's hand to his chest and in a floating motion turned them back to face the sky outside.

The night was slowly giving way and a faint light could be seen far off on the horizon. The silver stars shone brightly down upon the hidden valley and smiled as they took in the sight of the small human boy who one day would become a great Man, and the young elfling who was the love of his heart and would follow him on his path through life.

Elrond snaked an arm around Glorfindel's waist as he saw the dark blue of the sky gently turned into a pure golden shimmer.

"Truly I am blessed."

"And so am I." The elf-lord smiled at him. "Did you see how Thranduil avoided the _bananas_?" He mouthed the word carefully.

"Is that all you can think of?"

Warding off the mock-slap that was aimed in his direction, Glorfindel grinned. "I like their shape."

"Hah!" said Elrond, much like Thranduil himself only moments before. "I should have known."

At his father's exclamation Estel glanced over at him. Elrond had an arm around Glorfindel's waist and the human decided he was happy that _ada _had such a good friend.

Elrond must have felt his eyes upon him, for he abandoned his discussion with Glorfindel and sent his youngest a loving smile. "Blessed Solstice, _Estel nin_."

"Blessed Solstice, _ada_," he grinned.

Then Anor's golden rays truly captured the sky and only in the West did the stars shine for some time longer. Legolas caught both of his hands and when facing him, Estel saw the same brilliant light reflected in his eyes.

"I am really glad I came here."

"So am I."

"I really, really like you."

Leaning forwards, Estel placed a kiss on his cheek. "Me too."

Legolas arched an eyebrow. "You mean you really, really like you?"

"No," said Estel, blushing a tiny bit. "I mean I really, really like you back."

"You should like you," smiled Legolas. "You are really, really likeable."

And so, in the midst of the cheers at the new day dawning, Legolas Thranduilion kissed Estel Elrondion full on the lips, much to the pleasure of the Valar who were watching.

**-ooo-**

**Here ends the fourth, and the last, part of the tale. From my heart, I thank you all for reading and I wish you all a wonderful Solstice and Christmas, in whatever way you choose to celebrate it. And as we say over here: God Jul.**

**-ooo-**

**Imladris Library is stunned by all of the reactions we have received since the publication of the first part of this tale. We admit that it was not what we had initially expected, but we are pleased to note that we did nothing wrong in choosing to publish this text. Because of this, we have come to the conclusion that it is not entirely impossible for us to print something more, in some distant future. We make no promises, but most likely it will happen. Just like we said we would not open any letters post this publication, something which obviously was a lie. We apologise for this and wish you a good day. Good day!**


End file.
